


Narnian Legends and Lore

by myaekingheart



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: Narnia, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-01-26
Packaged: 2019-03-09 20:37:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13489296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myaekingheart/pseuds/myaekingheart
Summary: Short stories, myths, and legends from throughout Narnia’s history.





	1. The Birth of Aslan

    In the beginning, there was nothingness. And then, like a starburst, came the Emperor Beyond the Sea. He commanded matter with his own hands and set out to sculpt the perfect companion. In his first attempt, he created Charn, a land of dragons and deep enchantment. In this world, he placed Lilith, his vision for life, yet she proved to be unfaithful and unkind. From her came a species of strange beings which the Emperor titled as _jinn_ , who took great pleasure in mastering mystic arts and bending life to their will. The Emperor was unhappy, insulted and threatened by their attempt to duplicate his power, and condemned Charn to an eternity of pain and destruction. And so he reworked his vision.  
   The next world he sculpted, he entitled Earth and upon it he placed Adam and Eve. The Emperor was pleased with his work, having crafted a world upon which lush vegetation and endless bliss grew. And yet Adam and Eve were disobedient and created a great uproar in the Emperor’s otherwise perfect world. Displeased with their actions, the Emperor condemned them to pain and disease yet allowed them to continue life as experimentation. Despite their original sin, he was pleased with the progress before him and reworked his vision again.  
   In his final attempt, he crafted the most beautiful world he had ever beheld. It was so stunning, he nearly dare not threaten to ruin it. He loved it so much, he named it Narnia. Her eyes were the stars, her hair the streams, her breasts the hills, her limbs the branches, and her loins the fruit. _This is my final perfection, my final paradise_ , the Emperor declared and from there, he designated Narnia as the final resting place. As his final action, he gathered all his creations and bound them tightly til they were interconnected by a pond-filled wood through which one might hop from one world to the other. He named it the Wood Between the Worlds. Of all his many worlds, however, Narnia was by far his favorite to which he paid most of his attention. And yet, he was still unhappy.  
   Though beautiful, Narnia was barren. The Emperor didn’t dare threaten to ruin it’s perfection with the blistering stupidity of humanity. And so, he chose a different being, a noble beast which he named a lion. He snapped his fingers to ignite a blaze and from the flames, he sculpted not just any lion but the great lion in his likeness. And he named him Aslan. The Emperor kept watch over the lion as he roamed the land, learning the ways of life, and it was during these viewings that the Emperor declared he had finally created the perfect being. He blessed the lion with the gift of knowledge, the ability to speak, and the ability to love. But Aslan was lonesome. He felt as if there was more he could do than just roam.  
    _What is it you desire, my child_ , the Emperor asked.  
    _I wish to spread your grace and manufacture a world in which Narnia is thriving_ , the lion replied. The Emperor was unsure of his request, yet soon grew fonder of the idea.  
    _Your wish shall be granted_ , the Emperor finally replied, _and you shall be given your own world within mine for you to play and craft inside_. And so the Emperor hollowed the center of his beautiful country and created a space of nothingness for his child to roam and create. He wrapped his original creation around the space like a ring, snugly hugging that of his son’s. And as Aslan set to work, from his will the false Narnia was born.


	2. The Legend of the Fireflower

From upon the barren earth of Kronne, but one of seven isles  
An ashen phoenix lay his head and sorely wept a while  
And as he wept, thy bloody eye slipped slow a piercing tear  
From which a tiny seed of fire in desert ground appeared  
The bird did perish on that day, his feathers reduced to ash  
But his will, the meager seed, the dunes of sand did stash  
For seven nights the sun did set, for seven morns it rose  
And as the sun cycles the earth, a crimson flower grows  
And in that land, that treacherous isle, life finally did bloom  
Grinning sunwise on the shore until it faced it’s doom  
For as word spread of this mystic flower, this fire blossom rare  
Droves of greedy villagers flocked to it’s presence there  
For legend told of flowers born of noble natural deaths  
Deep powers slept within their roots of which the bloom was blessed  
O noble phoenix, of his bones the flower held his gift  
Rejuvinate the injured, cure the scathed and heal the sick   
For fifty years it thrived and blossomed many flowers more  
On that one of seven isles’ once deserted, sandy shore  
Surrounding Kronne, the archipelago burst forth with life  
As stone hostels and small cabins erected overnight  
For quite some time in harmony these isles did subsist  
Until a dreadful illness overtook the village quick  
As bodies heaped in pathways and blood pooled in the streets  
The fabled flower grew until it’s promise stilled their bleats  
Their voyage was successful and the blossom was uproot  
They brewed it’s petals for a tea and passed the goblet through  
Of those whose lips grazed that cup, but one was of true merit  
A wanton pauper weak and gravid, her unborn child deficient  
Born of the cure, the child gleamed and radiated sun  
Her ruby hair and amber eyes were comparable to none  
Despite her beauty, the daughter grew rambunctious like wildfire  
Wreaking havoc through the town and befouling in the mires  
Of her rage and origin, they named her Iraflora  
To satisfy her passionate and brightly blazing aura  
They braided pansies in her hair and dressed her in black silks  
For she was something special, of a rare and mystic ilk  
In her youth, she grew to be a fine and valiant maiden  
Whose hand was sought by every man whose bed that she had laid in  
But neither were so kind to her as the lord whose name is lost  
Who pledged to love her always with a ring of garnet gloss  
One summer night, they wed and then proceeded to embark  
Upon a ship to visit all the lands that lie afar  
But as the sea grew choppy and the sky clouded ahead  
That dreadful lord devised a plan leading to his bride’s death  
For with the knowledge of her birth engraved into his mind  
He plotted to invade Kronne’s shores and steal that floral find  
But she was smart and in her stealth, she understood his plan  
And slyly foraged her own plot to kill this dreadful man  
She knew this flower’s potency and cherished in respect  
And pledged forevermore to those blooms she would protect  
On reaching Kronne, the ship did dock and Iraflora fled  
And battled her new husband over these plants until the death  
However, neither won their case for the sun was hot as hell  
And whosoever did not bleed burnt in the ocean’s swell  
But Aslan knew of the girl’s deed, her valiance and her spry  
And chose so to reward her with a bright new lease on life  
Like the fiery, fabled phoenix, she rose up from the ash  
With amber eyes of passion and plumes from every gash  
He appointed her the keeper of those blazing crimson blooms  
Whose roots could cure all sickness and stitch up every wound  
And onward ‘til the sun sets upon it’s final day  
To the glistening eastern sea, those flowers are kept safe


	3. King Thaddeus and His Beloved

     Twas the year eight-hundred and one, in the month of Greenroof, when King Thaddeus the Iron-Hearted set upon his quest. Newly crowned, his youth was the envy of many a neighbor and his sprightly ways unparalleled by any man, whether knight or fool. It was in this lush and humid month of Greenroof that the king brought it upon himself to pursue the infamous White Stag, for many a bard sang of the creature’s good fortune and wealth. And so the king gathered his men, knights and lords and consorts, and embarked upon his ambitious quest.   
      The group galloped gayly, swords and bows in hand, but come noon, when the sun sat highest in the sky, that Thaddeus encountered his pitfall. As the Shuddering Wood petered out, and he reached the southeast edge of the forest, he came to a trickling creek upon which a most curious figure knelt. A woman of green, conjured of leaves, sat absorbing the sunshine and singing sweetly to herself. She was mesmerizing, a true sight to behold, and Thaddeus was instantly enraptured.   
      “Tell me, oh most beautiful one, what art thou name?” he spoke softly, approaching with great caution. At first, the dryad was startled and nearly fled from the scene, but as the king approached she knew him as friend and her trust increased.   
      “Thy name is Chloe, of the Shuddering Wood. And who art thou, oh noble one?” she replied. Her voice rang earthy and light, as one might expect. Thaddeus introduced himself, ensuring to include his full title so his acquaintance would know him as king. Deep down, he was shocked she had known him for, though young, he ruled all of the wood in which she dwelled. It was of his utmost belief that the common people should truly know their king.   
      Thaddeus’s men searched for him far and wide before finding him with bare feet dipped in Glasswater. Upon their arrival, however, Chloe disintegrated and thus disappeared. Thaddeus’s men scarcely believed him when he explained his new friendship. They returned to Cair Paravel presently, the young king defeated.   
      Thaddeus was not to give up so easily. Each afternoon, at high noon, he ventured back to Glasswater to meet with his beloved. What ensued was a romance for the ages rivaled only by Swanwhite and her long lost mavourneen. Each day, they spoke of sweet nothings and snacked on the finest fruits and when Thaddeus was overstuffed with berries and cheese, he would rest his head in the soft, downy grass and drift to sleep at the hands of Chloe’s lullabies. Her voice rang sugar-sweet and true through the whole of the forest, cloaking the area in a milky daydream.   
      Come autumn, Thaddeus had fallen madly in love. He so cherished Chloe’s company that he decided executively that he shall take her for his wife, and she should rule beside him for the rest of his days in the castle upon the sea. He crafted a ring of wood and jewel and rode forth toward Glasswater with passionate intention. However, when he arrived, Chloe was nowhere to be found. He searched for her but was unsuccessful.   
      Defeated, Thaddeus felt to his knees by the riverside and wept. It was then that he discovered a formation of sticks on the creek’s bank that spelled out a sorry message. _Thou heart has been true but my time has come and with autumn, I must fade._ The young king peered around to find everything dead and dying. The trees had grown sorry and bare. The leaves on the ground piled in heaps like hearth flames.   
      The king returned home sorely depressed, for so suddenly he had lost his beloved. He was unsure how to function without her presence, how to go about his days without her there each and every afternoon. As the castle Cair Paravel grew nearer, however, Thaddeus was reminded of his duty to his country. He had long forgotten his title, tossing responsibility at the wayside in the stead of childish follies and romantic escapades. As he stepped foot back into the castle, he was filled with renewed purpose. No longer would he fall for the alluring maidens of the wood. No longer would he neglect the many for his intoxication with but one.  
      King Thaddeus proceeded to rule over Narnia for fifty years more, earning prestigious medals and titles for his great valor in battle. It was only when it was necessary of him that he married, and he only did so out of duty. His queen bore three children, the eldest of which took the throne upon his father’s death. And while Thaddeus became a beloved and benevolent ruler, he never forgot his brief yet passionate romance with the dryad they called Chloe.


End file.
